


Fight to Death

by Athenais_Penelope_Clemence



Series: Robin Hood AUs [3]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006), Robin Hood (Traditional), Robin Hood - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Romance, Character Death, Crusades, Death, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mental Anguish, Multi, Regicide, Romance, Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-01-14 12:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1265941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athenais_Penelope_Clemence/pseuds/Athenais_Penelope_Clemence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S2 Finale AU. The trip to Acre to save King Richard has a tragic outcome. Robin Hood and the outlaws face the fight to death with the Sheriff, Guy, and the Saracens. The battle doesn't result in Marian's death, but Robin and his friends suffer significant losses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight to Death

**Fight to Death**

High in the blue, cloudless sky, the Eastern sun blazed hotly and relentlessly at the ruins of Imuiz, the deserted town that had been destroyed by the Crusaders after the capture of Acre. The hot air was filled with the fetid fragrance of death and doom. It was so hot that the air seemed unfit for breathing. Pale yellow, monotonous dunes stretched around Imuiz, and there was an impending sense of tragedy in the air.

Tormented by the scorching heat, Robin and Much wandered through the narrow, similarly looking alleys, staying close to the walls of the buildings to avoid detection by Sheriff Vaisey, Guy of Gisborne, and the assassins hired by the Black Knights for the battle in Imuiz.

The Holy Land was a land of contrasts and contradictions. For Christians, it was holy because of its association with the birth, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In this wondrous place, a man experienced great inspiration and intimacy with God. Yet, it was also a land filled with bloodshed and death, where goodness and compassion seemed to have been lost among the inward parts of some cruel and ruthless beast that settled in the heart of the many Crusaders fighting for their Lord despite uncertainties regarding whether He would sanction the taking of so many lives in His name.

Throughout many years, the Crusaders fought to reclaim Jerusalem, enduring a great many perils and hardships, witnessing unspeakable horrors, and carrying out atrocities with their weapons. For Robin and Much, the Holy Land was a hate-ridden land of death, and the pope’s promises to have their sins absolved didn’t mean anything to them. There was nothing holy there.

Djaq was happy to finally be at home; yet, she found herself unable to banish thoughts of death from her head. Little John and Allan disliked the place due to the extreme heat and because of their recent desert ordeal. The outlaws were disappointed in King Richard, who had sentenced them to death on the basis of hearsay, betraying his most loyal subject – Sir Robin of Locksley, the Earl of Huntingdon and the former captain of the king’s private guard.

Although the gang had split up in the town, Robin and Much remained together at Robin’s initiative, working as a team, like it had always been during the years of their service in the Holy Land. The former manservant was protecting Robin from the back, warning him about the danger.

“I hate this horrible place, and the heat is unbearable,” Much complained, wiping sweat from his brow.

Robin inhaled and exhaled deeply. He shot Much an annoyed look. "Much, concentrate on the battle."

"We are not surrounded now," the former manservant defended himself. His voice was very low, as if he were debating with himself. “We may have a moment of rest and then continue to–”

Robin interrupted him. "Much, be attentive anyway. We will talk later."

“I am sorry, Master.” Much sighed and a look of anxiety mingled with concern crossed his features. Then he broached a pressing subject. “Master, where is King Richard?"

Robin stared at Much. "The king went after the sheriff. He was determined to chase after Vaisey."

“It is dangerous!”

The leader of the outlaws gave a nod. "He always rules from the front lines." He furrowed his brows. “I suspect that there are many Saracens hiding here."

"We must find the king. He should leave this place."

"Yes," Robin agreed.

In the different part of the town, Will, Djaq, Little John, and Allan fought with several Saracens.

Djaq loathed that she had to kill her own countrymen; her only consolation was that she had to kill in self-defense. Allan, John, and Will were becoming more exasperated as they were failing to swiftly adapt to the aggressive and ruthless fighting style of the Saracens, who were much more dangerous enemies than the sheriff’s guards. When the fight was over, everyone was awash in relief.

"I am not being funny, but the Saracens are very dangerous," Allan commented.

"They fight differently. This I don't like," John affirmed.

"We will get used to that soon," Will said in the voice that lacked conviction.

"Be very attentive. Move fast and attack. Pace and adroitness are very important," Djaq recommended.

"Oh, war is always a gamble. I just don't want to be killed in this horrible place," Allan pointed out.

"This battle is not the worst you might have here," Djaq admitted sadly. "King Richard's soldiers are formidable fighters, and there were many bloody battles here."

"How is that possible to survive in this hell for years?" John grumbled.

Allan laughed. "I would have gone mad if I had lived here for five years."

Will shrugged. "Robin and Much spent many years here."

Djaq ran her eyes over her friends. "Many of the Lionheart's soldiers fell ill with a recurrent fever at the beginning of the Crusade. However, later they got accustomed to the climate. Now many of them can endure the heat rather well." She smiled. "For the Saracens, this heat is usual."

In a moment, the outlaws heard a great war shout in Arabic somewhere nearby. The long line of dark-skinned men advanced forward, their long curved blades flashing silver in the hot air. The Saracens attacked the outlaws with a ferocious aggression. Djaq and Will were battling with three soldiers. Will fought with his sword and axe. Djaq decapitated one assassin and sliced the throat of another attacker. A tall figure loomed over Allan from the left, and he smashed into the man’s head with the hilt of his sword; then Allan turned and buried the blade in the heart of another assassin.

Little John killed two Saracens, but then he found himself suddenly surrounded by three more assassins. He plunged his sword into the chest of one man and ambushed the second man, but he failed to notice another Saracen behind. The Saracen took a step forward and plunged his sword into John’s side; the blade sliced deeply through John's ribs, and he almost lost his balance as a wave of sharp pain shot through him. John managed to kill the man who had injured him; then he dropped his sword and tumbled to the sand.

Soon all of the assassins were dead. They stared with grief-stricken eyes at John who lay sprawled on the sand in a pool of blood. They didn’t have much time for grieving the loss of their friend as, just in a few moments, they heard familiar ululating war cries and had to fight for their lives again.

Meanwhile, Robin charged through the serpentine streets, moving as fast as his legs could carry him. Much was trailing behind him, this time not complaining and grumbling but looking around in search of the king. A feeling of helpless anxiety stole over the two men like a fever, and the first stirrings of dread clutched at them with cold fingers as the somber reality of their situation began to dawn on him.

“Hurry up, Much!” Robin picked up his pace, his heart beating faster.

The sun touched its peak and blazed relentlessly, like a giant red star in a cloudless cerulean canvas. Robin stopped for a moment and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He envied the Saracens who wore loose garments made out of light silk, cursing himself for not changing his clothes for a silk tunic at Bassam’s house before going to the Crusaders’ camp.

All at once, Robin and Much saw six Saracens galloping towards them on their scrubby little horses. The assassins pulled back their bow cords and prepared to darken the sky with their shafts. Robin knelt and drew his bow to the full; Much crouched behind him.

Robin shot an arrow and then another one, his heart beating so fast that he was certain it was going to explode in his chest. A hail of white-feathered arrows whizzed through the hot air, and several Saracens slipped from their horses to the sand. Much also fired several arrows, but his aim never was as deadly as Robin’s. The outlaws smiled, looking at a trail of bodies near the frightened horses.

Robin still enjoyed a thrill of the fight. Perhaps, it was the Holy Land thing that had caused Robin’s undercurrent darkness to resurface and spill out. Robin Hood was not only a peace-loving fighter for justice and the savior of the poor: he also was the king’s chief general while serving in the Holy Land, and he was an incredibly gifted fighter. War had awakened in Robin a ravening monster with bloodlust that could consume all around, and a great darkness blossomed in his heart, like a flower watered by the bitter poison of his memories about the Crusade; but he controlled his instincts of a killer most of the time.

Robin turned to Much. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were dark, shining with a perilous light of death. “They are dead,” he said dryly. He averted his gaze, looking at the bodies of the assassins.

Much knew what Robin’s gaze meant, letting out a sigh of frustration. A frown marred his forehead. “We are killing, Robin,” he said quietly. “We are again killing.”

Robin gave a slight nod. “I don’t like that,” he admitted. “But I will kill for the king and for England.”

“What should we do now?” Much looked weary of the heat and worry.

“To find the king,” Robin said nervously. "Where is Carter?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him, Master."

“It is good that I persuaded Marian to stay away from the battlefield.” Robin sighed heavily. “I hope that she will keep her word and will stay out of the battle.”

Soon Robin and Much lost each other among the countless narrow passages in the town.

Robin was getting more nervous because there was no sign of the king. He needed to find a vantage point to observe the whole town instead of being cautious and hiding from their enemies. He climbed atop of the building, running his eyes over his surroundings and looking down on the road.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed a tall, muscular, handsome man whose horse passed by the roof where Robin had positioned himself. The man was King Richard the Lionheart. His red-gold hair shimmered in the brisk sunlight; his blue eyes were staring straight ahead. The king was alive, but his life was still in danger, and he had to leave the battlefield, Robin mused.

Robin smiled. He loved the king in spite of his liege’s grievous mistake that could have resulted in the deaths of his friends and his own death. He would do everything to save and protect Richard, including giving his life for the king, with the only exception – he would never allow Marian to sacrifice herself for the king. After his reconciliation with Marian, Robin had realized that she was much more important to him than England and the king, and he would never choose his duty to the king over his love for Marian.

“Sire, this is a trap. You should leave this place,” Robin said in an urgent voice, looking down at the king. He spoke in Norman-French, the king's native tongue. Richard could speak English, but he preferred Norman-French as his English was heavily accented.

King Richard tightened the reins and paused, looking up at Robin. He was pleased to see his most loyal subject, whose loyalty he had betrayed today. At the thought of what he had almost caused, Richard felt anger simmering in his blood, and his eyes burned with anguish. He turned his head and spotted an assassin who stood behind Robin; it was Karim who had posed as Saladin during the meeting with the king. He drew his sword and hurled it in the Saracen, saving Robin's life.

“Be careful, Robin," Richard warned, speaking in Norman-French.

Robin looked over his shoulder, at the fallen Saracen. He veered his gaze to Richard and flashed a bright smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

The king smiled back. “You are welcome.” Before he could ride off, Robin’s urgent voice stopped him.

“Wait, sire!” Robin called in a worried voice. “I will ask Much to accompany you to the camp.”

"Robin, you need him here. He will stay with you.”

“You cannot ride alone!”

Richard smiled cordially. “I will be alright," he assured him in a personal manner.

“Sire, you cannot leave alone,” Robin insisted.

Richard interrupted him. "Robin, we will be fine, and you need Much here.” Then he rode off.

Robin shook his head, resigned. “God, please help us here,” he said to himself.

Robin climbed down the roof and stalked along the street. He paused near one of the deserted buildings, making a swift scrutiny of the surroundings. He discovered Nasir hiding on the roof of a nearby building as the man targeted the king. Black fury coursed through him, and Robin released an arrow, and Nasir fell to the sand. For a few moments, Robin observed the twitching of Nasir’s limbs before the man went still.

Danger stalked Robin at every turn, prompting him to keep his scimitar at hand to fend off an attack if necessary. Suddenly, there was a quick movement in his peripheral vision, and Robin put his hand on the hilt of his sword. In the next moment, Robin was thrown to the ground by another assassin who slammed a fist into his face and then into his stomach. Robin doubled over with pain and groaned; he quickly forced himself to get to his feet and lunged at his attacker with his Saracen curved sword.

The new enemy wasn’t a Saracen – he was Sir James of Lambton, the current head of the king’s private guard and a traitor who had been the sheriff's spy in the king's camp for a long time. James parried Robin’s blow, his gaze clear and focused as he began to plan how to overpower and kill Robin, whom he envied and hated for so long. James lunged forward, who sidestepped a blow and reflected it with a sidelong parry.

The two men danced around one another, exchanging fierce and masterful blows over and over again, each of them determined to kill the other. Robin was taunting his opponent, which made James angrier and more determined to kill him.  Robin dodged from a blow and paused for a brief moment. James launched a new attack, swinging his blade at Robin's head. But Robin ducked from that blow, although he wasn’t quick enough to deflect a new blow; he felt his head swimming, for he was too tired after the desert ordeal. James threw himself at Robin and began to strangle him; Robin’s sword slipped from his hand.

“Now I will deal with you, Locksley,” James said between clenched teeth.

Robin saw Much who was behind James. “I wouldn't be so sure if I were you.”

Much swung his broadsword and beheaded the traitor. “Disgusting traitor,” he hissed.

Robin smiled gratefully, his eyes sparkling. “Thank you, Much.”

“You are welcome, Master.” Much looked at Robin with concern. “Are you alright?"

“Yes, I am," Robin said abruptly; he wiped his forehead of sweat.

“Now you are safe.” Much frowned in disgust as he looked at James' headless corpse.

Robin sighed. “But the king is not safe. I am very worried.” He had never allowed King Richard to travel unprotected while leading the king’s private guard. But today he let Richard escape from Imuiz alone.

Much looked alarmed. “We must find Gisborne and the sheriff.”

A vigilant Robin stood for a moment. “Yes," he said. He took his sword and sheathed it. “Let’s go.”

§§§

Sheriff Vaisey plotted Carter’s murder. Vaisey’s eyes narrowed calculatingly as he spotted Carter who was walking down the street. Carter was a formidable fighter who wouldn’t hesitate to kill, unlike Robin Hood, and Vaisey wanted the other man dead. Now Carter was alone, and the sheriff had a great chance. Hiding behind the corner of a building, the sheriff patiently waited for the young man to appear at the crossroads.

Carter reached the crossroads and took a right turn, and then Vaisey suddenly emerged from the corner. The sheriff attacked the Crusader, slicing him through the ribs with his sword and laughing.

“Ah,” Carter breathed, feeling the blade penetrating his flesh. With a groan, he fell to the ground.

The sheriff laughed maliciously. “Bye-bye, Blondie. You are a traitor, and I never forgive betrayal!”

Humming something under his breath, the sheriff strode forward, leaving Carter to bleed into the sand. Vaisey didn’t see the Crusader's eyes open: Carter was injured, but he was still alive. Clutching his side with his right hand, Carter rose from the sand withy effort. He discovered that the cut wasn’t too deep, but the wound was bleeding. Carter tore his white tunic in the front, intending to use the cloth to stop bleeding.

Marian was staying in a dilapidated building, where Robin had left her for her safety. Standing near the window and staring at the endless sandy dunes, she thought that she regretted she didn't have a sword so she could participate in the battle. As she recollected the events that followed Robin’s birthday, her blood boiled with the flames of rage that ripped through her like a jagged knife.

Marian was exhausted from the blistering heat and the continuous worry. During the many months of the voyage to the Holy Land, she had believed that her beloved had died. Her soul was mired in hurt and anguish, and a perpetual darkness of grief had shrouded her. In Acre, the miracle had happened: Robin and the outlaws were alive. When the sheriff had delivered Marian into the desert, she had been happy to see Robin alive; she had been exhilarated to the point of tears when they had exchanged marriage vows, waiting for death. When Carter had saved them, she had thought that they were blessed by God as they had again cheated death. Marian hoped that this blessedness would help Robin defeat their enemies.

Marian sighed as her mind drifted back to Guy. Even after learning that Guy had attempted regicide and had stabbed Robin, she still hoped that he wouldn’t try to do the same evil deed again. She feared that Robin and Guy would face each other in a fight, knowing beforehand that Gisborne wouldn’t win this fight: her betrothed was a God-gifted fighter much more skilled with a sword and a bow than Guy. She didn’t want Guy dead! Nevertheless, if Robin had to kill Guy to save the king or himself, she would accept that.

While Marian brooded in an ominous silence, Sheriff Vaisey was only in a step from the completion of his divine mission – King Richard’s murder. After stabbing Carter, Vaisey had walked along the street, looking for Gisborne and his other accomplices. His evil heart pounding hard with excitement, he had stopped in his tracks at the end of the street as he had seen King Richard on his horse fleeing Imuiz without any escort.

“Long live King Richard!” a sneering Vaisey proclaimed maliciously. Darkness in his heart thickened, and bloodlust seized him like some ravening beast. Snickering, he aimed at the king’s back. “Oh, no!” he exclaimed mockingly. The words echoed through the town of Imuiz menacingly.

King Richard couldn’t see the sheriff fire an arrow. As Richard reached the end of an alley, an arrow flew through the air and struck the king in the shoulder. Richard howled with pain as a wave of white-hot pain coursed through him. His horse continued its way through the deserted courtyard without stopping and passed by the fountain. In the middle of the square, he slid off of his horse and fell to the ground.

Guy was not far from the courtyard. He heard that scream, hoping that the Saracens had already finished off Robin Hood and his gang. He hoped that Marian would hide from the assassins whom he had persuaded to spare her life despite Vaisey's protests. He quickened his footsteps, all the time looking around.

Marian heard the howl as well, fearing that something had happened to Robin. With a pounding heart, she stormed out of the building and ran down the street. The similar Arabic buildings flickered before her eyes, but she ran and ran, not caring that spots were starting to form in her vision. As she appeared in the deserted courtyard, she walked to the fountain, running her eyes across the square. Her heart missed a beat and then pounded harder as her gaze fixed on the injured Crusader, with an arrow protruding out of his back. She gasped in horror as she recognized the King of England himself in the fallen warrior.

She rushed to the wounded monarch. She felt relief wash over her as she noticed Richard move his arm. She made a step to the king but paused as she saw Guy enter the courtyard from the opposite side, his sword drawn. Marian was in the midst of the terrible horror – she was alone against Guy, weaponless and tired, but she feared not for her own life but for the king’s.

She ran forward, shouting, “Guy! Guy!”

Gisborne stopped for a moment, mesmerized by Marian who looked gorgeous in her long white dress, her long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders. Guy’s steel blue eyes met Marian’s sapphire orbs that were large and expressive, like a cloudless blue sky. Marian looked like an angel among death. Yet, Marian wasn’t innocent, Guy reminded himself, for she was the Nightwatchman and she had even tried to murder the sheriff. Then he remembered that he had to kill the king; he was angry that Marian had come to the courtyard, for he didn't want her to see how he would murder the man.

Marian stood very close to Guy, her hands outstretched protectively as she blocked his path to the king. “Stop!” she shouted. She gave the man an icy glare, her eyes full of disdain. “It is over, Guy!”

Guy made a step forward. “Marian, get out of the way!”  The king's death was all that mattered: it would give him great power and status, and he would marry Marian then.

Marian stepped backwards, closer to King Richard. She feared that Guy would kill the defenseless and weaponless monarch. Her knees were shaking, but her face didn’t betray her true emotions. She knew that she had to do everything in her power to guard the king until Robin and the others came to the courtyard.

She gazed into Gisborne's eyes, her expression blank. “All this time I have been fighting for England," she announced passionately. “Do you think I am going to let you kill England?” She didn't move when the king’s would-be assassin took a step forward and pointed his sword at her.

“Get out of the way!” he bellowed.

Looking into Guy’s cold eyes glittering with danger, Marian felt terror sweep through her, but her face didn’t reveal the emotional tumult. She dragged a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Gazing boldly at Guy, she admonished, “Guy, don't commit treason! Stop before it is too late!” She again attempted to persuade Guy to change his mind, also trying to buy more time for the king and herself. 

A wave of rage passed through Guy. “Marian, get out of the way!”

Marian shot Guy a fulminating look. “If you want to kill the king, you will have to kill me first!”

Guy looked startled. "No, no."

"I won't let you murder the king and England!” she persisted.

“Marian, Richard is not England. He abandoned his people to fight a war he cannot win. He doesn't care about England and his people. England will be better without Richard.”

“England will be worse with Prince John on the throne than with King Richard!”

“Move aside!” Gisborne's voice boomed; he stepped forward. “We are going to get out of this. I am going to do this thing, and then I will have power beyond measure.” His sword still raised, he made another step forward. “I will do this and then we will be together,” he promised.

A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Together? This is impossible.” She kept her hands defensively, protecting the king. As he took a step forward, she had to back away from him.

Gisborne looked abashed. “What?”

“I would rather die than be with you, Guy of Gisborne,” she fired back, a smile hovering over her lips.

“No!” he cried out, shaking his head in disbelief.

Marian knew that she no longer could distract Guy by talking about England, King Richard, and Prince John. She had to do something more effective, but she could defeat Gisborne only with words. She decided on the course of action: she would break Guy by telling him the truth about her relationship with Robin.

Marian nodded an affirmative. She flashed a dazzling smile as the image of Robin’s handsome face, framed by sandy hair roguishly falling over his forehead, entered her mind. “I am going to marry Robin Hood.” Her eyes sparkled with joy. “ _I love Robin Hood_ ,” she reiterated.

Guy blinked in shock, his eyes wild. “No!”

“I love Robin Hood and only him,” she repeated. “You could never love a man like you.”   

There was so much passion in Marian’s confession that Guy shuddered in shock mingled with rage, feeling as if she had driven a sword into his heart. He took a sharp intake of breath, but the air seemed too heavy to breathe. He didn't want to believe her, but her words, like a judge's verdict, rang in his ears. Looking at Marian’s smiling face, Guy knew that she had spoken the truth – _she loved his mortal enemy_.

Suddenly, the image of an ideal Marian, which had already been tarnished by some shocking revelations, was broken into many small pieces. The image of a treacherous woman took Marian’s place in his mind. Her world was filled with dreams of Robin Hood, the king’s savior and the people’s hero whom everyone loved and admired, and there was no place there for a troubled and wretched creature like Guy.

§§§

Guy’s eyes filled with tears of pain and bitterness. He had always wanted someone to make him happy and help him forget the years of misery spent in Normandy in abject poverty after their banishment from Locksley. When he had met Marian, he had been interested in her because she had been betrothed to Robin before the Earl of Huntingdon had left for the Crusade; but, over time, Guy had fallen in love with her.

A tide of mind-clouding anger crashed over Guy, and he suddenly craved to eradicate the source of the words that had broken his whole world. He was in a fume of vexation, rage, and hatred, and could hardly control himself to speak civilly to Marian. He could derive no solace from any aspect of the situation, which radiated pain only on every side; his heart was overwhelmed with pain. Instead, he found himself possessed by the desire to strike Marian with his sword for all her lies and deceits, and he made a step forward.

Marian backed away, her hands outstretched. There was a dazzling smile of blissful happiness on her face, but it wasn’t the smile for Guy because he knew that she was thinking of Robin Hood. Her smile infuriated him, and a feeling of astoundingly strong hatred clenched his heart. Suddenly, Gisborne heard the English voice behind his back; he knew that voice, but it didn’t belong to Vaisey or Robin Hood.

“Well, well, well, Sir Guy of Gisborne,” a voice came from a distant part of the courtyard. “It seems that I have come here in time. Now we can laugh on the wrong side of our faces.”

Marian was relieved to see Carter who was holding a bow in his hands, targeting Gisborne's back. She noticed that the Crusader was injured and that his wound was bandaged with rags.

“I will never allow you to kill Marian,” Carter hissed. He strode forward, his gait a little bit unsteady.

Guy swung around to face the intruder; his face contorted in pure rage. “Carter! You must be dead.” Vaisey had boasted that he had murdered Carter when they had met in one of the alleys.

Carter scoffed. "Gisborne, rumors about my death are exaggerated.”

"Then you will die now,” Gisborne threatened. He raised his sword and pointed it at Carter. "You are injured and unable to fight with me. You won't win the battle."

Carter laughed, despite the pain in his side. "I don't need to fight with you – I will shoot you."

Guy sneered. "You are not a renowned marksman like Hood. You may miss.”

Carter let out a laugh. “My archery skills are not as outstanding as Robin’s, but I won’t miss from such a small distance.” He laughed again. “Let’s try.” Then he fired an arrow.

Carter’s arrow struck Guy in the right shoulder; it would have hit him in the chest if he hadn't turned away. Guy screamed in pain and staggered backwards, clutching his shoulder. Carter released another arrow that hit Guy’s hip on the left side, and he sank to his knees with a savage roar.

Marian’s eyes met Guy’s, and she flinched at the sight of this defeated Gisborne. His wild eyes bore into her, into the very core of her heart, and she subconsciously blamed herself for Guy's demise. Then she reminded herself that Guy was a criminal. She was grateful that Carter had saved her life, thinking that Guy would have killed her after her confession if the Crusader hadn't found them in time.

Marian turned her gaze at Carter, giving him a smile of gratitude. “Thank you, Carter.”

Carter smiled back. “You are welcome, Marian.”

Marian marched to Gisborne decidedly, her lips compressed tightly. Even though Carter had wounded Guy twice, she wanted to make sure that the sheriff’s henchman was disarmed. She stopped near Guy, crouched, and took his sword in her hands. Not forgetting about the curved dagger which Guy always wore at his belt, she leaned over Guy and collected the weapon. As she made sure that he had no other weapons, Marian flashed him a compassionate look, but she could see only anger and contempt in his eyes.

“I am sorry,” Marian whispered, looking at Guy; a sort of guilty warmth pulsed in her heart. Now Guy was wounded and no longer dangerous for King Richard and Marian, but she wasn’t happy because she felt guilty of provoking Guy to action by confessing her love for Robin.

Guy stared at her with pain-filled eyes. “Don't play games with me, Marian. You are a liar and Hood's whore. I don't believe you.” He moved his right leg and groaned as pain slashed through his body. “Go and find your precious Hood if he is still alive.”

Marian swallowed painfully. “I am sorry,” she repeated. She straightened her spine and stepped away from him, moving towards the king.

Gisborne again tried to move his body and screamed in pain. He understood that he had been serious, if not gravely, injured by Carter’s arrows. He extended his hand and removed the arrow from his hip, giving a howl of pain. He only wished to pull out the source of pain, but, in fact, he aggravated his condition: without an arrow, the bleeding from his wound intensified. Guy cursed aloud, and lowered his chin, staring at the torrent of blood pouring from his hip; he could also see the crimson pool of blood on the sand beneath him.

Although the second arrow was causing him a huge pain, Guy didn’t take it out. Obviously, he wouldn't be able to rise to his feet and escape. Although Carter hadn't killed him on the spot, Guy suspected that he could die from huge blood loss or infection. If the bleeding didn't stop soon, he would be as dead as the desert itself by the end of the day, provided that nobody of Robin Hood’s gang would kill him.

Carter smiled at Marian as she approached him. “Now it is our time to laugh. Let's go and help the king.”

Marian nodded. “I wonder where Robin and the others are.”

“I hope they will come here soon,” Carter responded. “I won't be the best fighter if we are attacked. It is a simple luck that I have a bow; I took it from one of the fallen Saracens.”

Carter and Marian crossed the courtyard to the king. Marian heard Guy’s moan, wishing to turn around, but she couldn't waste time because the king was more important than his would-be assassin. She squatted to examine the king's wound; Carter stood behind her, patiently waiting.

“We need Djaq to tend to the king's wound,” Marian said, her eyes full of concern.

“Djaq is not here, and we cannot wait,” Carter remarked.

“Then I will do what I can,” she pledged.

King Richard opened his eyes. “We are fine,” he murmured in Norman-French, in an official tone and using his royal “we”. The king remained regal and mannered even when he fell unwell.

“My liege, you are alive!” Carter exclaimed with a warm smile on his face.

"Yes, we are,” the king rasped. “But someone shot us.”

King Richard looked at Marian who gave him a tremulous smile. The king nodded at her, giving his permission to tend to his wound, with a look of surprise and admiration plainly written across his features; he was impressed by both her bravery and her compassion. Marian leaned over Richard and removed the arrow from his shoulder; the king winced in pain, but his expression quickly recovered neutrality; the injury wasn’t mortal, although the lion could contract a fever later.

Although he was in pain, Richard heard Marian's conversation with Gisborne. During the war, Robin had told the king that his heart had belonged to Lady Marian of Knighton, daughter of Sir Edward of Knighton. It was a mystery to the king how Marian had arrived in Acre and had ended up in the desert with Robin, and Richard decided to learn the whole story later.

“My liege, the wound is not dangerous, but it must be properly treated,” Marian told the king in Norman-French; she cast an apologetic glance at him. “I am sorry for causing you pain.” Though she had never met Richard before, she wasn't surprised that he didn’t speak to them in English: Robin had informed her that he had always spoken with the king in Norman-French in Acre.

“Thank you, my lady," Richard responded with a smile. “Where are the others?”

Marian climbed to her feet and went to the fountain to fetch some water. She had to clean and bandage the wound. Soon she returned to the king, listening to the conversation between her liege and Carter.

“On my way here, I saw many fallen Saracens. It was indeed a trap,” Carter reported.

Richard sighed heavily. “We underestimated Lord Vaisey’s cunning.”

“Sire, I have bad news,” Carter began cautiously.

Marian looked at Carter, her gazes alarmed. “What?”

“What happened, Carter?” the king asked the same question.

“I found James among the fallen warriors. He was headless,” Carter informed.

Richard looked amazed. “What? James is in the town and is dead? Are you sure?”

Carter nodded grimly. “Yes, I am sure.”

Marian shivered as she saw anger in Carter’s blue eyes. Her gaze slid to the king. “Sire, I was delivered to the desert and tied up to the poles by Sheriff Vaisey and Sir James.”

The lion scowled as an opaque fury swept through him. "It means that James conspired with the sheriff to kill me. James was the Black Knight!” James was captain of the private guard, the king's right-hand man and his close friend, and the revelation shocked Richard to the core.

Marian was quiet as she continued working with the king's wound. Djaq would have done everything better, but the monarch needed help right now. As the king nodded, signaling his agreement, Carter tore apart the king's mantle so that they could use it as a bandage for Richard’s shoulder and arm.

“Yes, my lord. James was here,” Carter confirmed.

“Foul traitor! We trusted him! Let him rot in hell!" Richard fumed, his eyes shooting daggers. “He was with us when Robin came to warn me about regicide.” He felt so very guilty of distrusting Robin and sentencing him to death because of hearsay; he should have known better whom to believe.

“James was well aware of our deals and used it to trap Robin,” Carter pointed out.

Richard's expression softened at the sound of Robin's name. “Carter, have you seen Robin?”

Carter inclined his head in confirmation. “I caught a glimpse of Robin on the roof of a building. He killed an assassin and then disappeared. I heard the clash of metal and war screams in the distance. On the way here, I found many Saracens who were shot from Robin's bow; I can easily recognize his arrows."

Marian finished cleaning the wound and bandaged the king's arm. “Done,” she murmured.

“Thank you, my lady,” Richard uttered with gratitude.

Marian blushed slightly. “My lord, you still need professional help.” She let out a sigh. “But Djaq is not here because Robin and the others must be fighting somewhere else.”

Carter looked at Marian. “I discovered the big man, Little John, on the ground, in one of the alleys.”

“Is he dead?” the king inquired.

Carter shook his head. "I think so."

Marian felt a sharp pain in her heart. “Oh God…” She stumbled with words.

“We are at war,” the monarch returned calmly. He was a military commander since early adulthood, and he was accustomed to facing all kinds of perils and death.

A sigh tumbled from Carter's lips. "My condolences, Marian." Then his eyes flew to Richard. "Sire, we must leave this place for your safety. You are injured and need help.”

“Carter, you also need a physician,” the king pointed out.

Carter smiled. “The bleeding stopped. I even cleaned the wound. I will survive.”

"But Robin and the others aren’t here!" Marian objected in a low voice.

"We must leave. We don't know how many mercenaries are still hiding here,” Carter explained.

"We will take the reinforcements at the camp and return,” Richard suggested. He didn't want to abandon Robin in the battle, but he and Carter were injured and, hence, couldn't fight.

“But, I–” Marian was interrupted by the king.

A stern look crossed Richard’s face. The king interrupted her. “The battlefield is not a place for a woman, Lady Marian. You will leave with us," he commanded strictly. “Robin is a trained soldier, one of the best I have ever seen. He knows how to fight with the Saracens, outwit them, and win his battles.”

“Marian, Robin didn't want you to be here. You know that he treasures your life,” Carter interposed.

“We are leaving," the king concluded with a touch of finality in his voice.

She let out a sigh of resignation. “As you wish, sire.” She wasn't pleased with the king's decision, but the reminder about Robin's unwillingness to risk her life brought her back to her senses. She was alone, with two wounded men, and she couldn't resist the army of the Turks.

Carter helped King Richard get to his feet. The three of them passed by Gisborne and walked to the king's horse. As she cast a quick glance at Gisborne, Marian inwardly shuddered at the sight of the huge pool of blood beneath his motionless form, but she could do nothing for him because the king wanted to leave Imuiz. Suddenly, the familiar singsong voice made them stop in their tracks in the middle of the courtyard.

Sheriff Vaisey stumbled into the courtyard and stopped, his eyes traversing the three of them and focusing on the monarch. “Blah-di-blah-di-blah! We have found the high and mighty King Richard the Lionheart!” he drawled every word, almost singing. “But I don't see the lion here!” He laughed malevolently as his eyes took in the wounded king. "Where is the lion? I see only the injured prey that I shot from my bow!” His gaze slid to Carter and Marian. “Oh, this is utterly great! This is so good! We have Gisborne’s leper and treacherous assassin here! This is so brilliant!"

There were other people with the sheriff: three Saracens and two Black Knights, the Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Hereford. They smiled venomously at the confused faces of the king and his friends.

§§§

King Richard, Carter, and Marian stared at the intruders in shock. Richard eyed the traitors, his face expressionless, as if carved out of marble, his posture regal, although inwardly he shuddered at the thought of being assassinated by his own subjects. Carter swore many oaths in his mind and prepared his bow for defense. Marian blanched, and put her hand on the hilt of Guy's sword.

Vaisey ran his eyes across the square, his gaze fixing on Guy’s motionless form. “Gisborne! Gisborne!” he cried out. He paused, waiting for Guy's reaction; as their eyes met, he went on. “Shame on you, my dear boy! You are utterly incompetent and stupid. You have again failed to kill the king.”

“Gisborne is a miserable weakling. He is incapable of killing the king,” the Earl of Hereford opined.

“Gisborne, you are a weak man,” Vaisey insulted his henchman. “I saw a deep potential in you, but you failed to kill the king twice. You are a pathetic man. You deserve to bleed to death because you are useless."

The Earl of Hereford gave a wry smile. "He disappointed us, and he is dead weight."

"Gisborne failed even when he was so close,” the Earl of Northampton commented contemptuously.

Vaisey laughed. “La di da di da! Gisborne will be a little dead soon!” He swung his gaze to the king, and then flicked his eyes to Marian and Carter. “I am so happy! This is going to be a great day!” His crafty smile grew wider. “Now we will finish what Gisborne failed to do. Lepers will finally get leprosy and traitors death!” He rubbed his hands in satisfaction. “And England will have a new king!"

“Traitor,” Guy muttered to himself; vehement rage ripped through him like a searing inferno.

Vaisey defeated his former _henchman_ in the flames of truth. The harsh reality was like a suggestion of things black, uncontrollable, and repulsive, whose discomposing intrusion could try nerves of the foolish and the wise alike. And Guy was a foolish criminal; the most foolish one in the annals of history. The sheriff and the Black Knights didn't plan to save him! Guy had served Vaisey for so long to obtain power and reestablish the proud heritage of the Gisbornes, but, in the end, his master betrayed him. Guy hated the sheriff and the Black Knights fiercely; he would have gladly murdered Vaisey if he wasn’t so badly injured.

It was a novelty for Guy that he wished Robin and the gang to come and kill the conspirators. He didn't care for King Richard, but he didn't want Marian to die; he loathed her for her betrayals and for choosing his sworn enemy over him, but he also still loved her. Guy then scoffed at himself: he shouldn't dream of rescue. The reality was that he was seriously wounded, and even if he was saved by the Black Knights, he would never earn Vaisey's favor after his second failure. If Hood killed the Black Knights and he survived, the king would condemn him to death for high treason. It would be better for him to die from his injuries.

“Prepare to die,” Vaisey declared in a triumphal manner.

The sheriff’s eyes brightening with the excitement of a victory, the sheriff laughed with a ringing, malevolent laugh, and the Black Knights laughed as well. It was the day of their ultimate triumph over King Richard and Robin Hood! A thick, lethal fog of death was swirling over the courtyard, and the only hope was that Robin and the outlaws would appear before the king and his loyal subjects were brutally murdered.

Richard bent his head and asked Marian the sheriff's name. Then he glanced at Vaisey. "How many times have you attempted regicide, Lord Vaisey?” he asked in English, with a heavy French accent.

Vaisey snickered. “It will be our last attempt, King Richard,” he said waspishly. “This time Hood won't save you – we have won!”

“Are you sure that our younger brother will be a better ruler?" the king addressed the sheriff.

Vaisey shot the king a grin. “It is not about who is more suitable to be king.”

"How much did my brother pay to you? What did he promise you?” Richard questioned.

The sheriff smirked. "It is a matter of power."

King Richard burst into a scornful laughter. “Murdering us is not the brightest idea of yours, Lord Vaisey. John has a fickle nature, and you will eventually lose his favor. If he doesn't need you, he will dispose of you without any second thought. He may even ask one of the other Black Knights to kill you in cold blood."

Vaisey stiffened. There was a lot of truth in Richard’s words, but he didn't want to think of such things at that moment. Absolute power was within his grasp, blinding him entirely. “I am tired of talking. Don't try to win more time in hopes for salvation."

"Let's finish this." The Earl of Hereford hated the king for his removal from the king's retinue. "My lord, your favorite, Robin of Locksley, should already be dead. It is your turn now," he said to the king, his lips curved in an off-putting smile.

"The Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Hereford!" Carter yelled. He eyed them, frowning in disgust. "You are traitors to England and your king!"

Desolation flooded Marian like a broken dam. “No! Robin cannot be dead! That is not true!” she cried out as the words about Robin’s possible death made her almost prostrate with emotional pain.

"Quiet," Richard warned Marian.

Hereford growled between set teeth, “Locksley should have died in that Saracen attack organized by Gisborne, but he survived. Anyway, his minutes on earth are numbered."

Richard looked at the two treacherous Crusaders. “Hereford, I understand why you want us dead, although we sent you home for insubordination because of your own shameful behavior. You deserted our first march on Jerusalem and disgraced yourself in the brothels of Acre.” He flittered his gaze to Northampton. "What did we do wrong with you, Northampton? We have always held you in high regard.”

"Power and wealth," Northampton said unhesitatingly.

“Sure,” the king breathed. All traitors dreamed of power and wealth, but no one thought that they had sold their immortal souls to the devil for a handful of coins.

“Enough talking! I want to hear the lion's agonizing screams!” Vaisey snarled. He was shaken by a furious hate that could be unappeased only by the death of King Richard whom he craved dead. His lips arranged in a noxious smile, he addressed the king, “You are cornered, aren't you, the lion?”

“You will also be cornered by John sooner or later.” King Richard welcomed an honorable death on the battlefield, but he most definitely didn't want to die at the hands of his own countrymen. Yet, he would face his death with dignity that would unnerve and exasperate his enemies.

“Show respect to your king!" Carter reprimanded.

Richard chuckled in amusement, and a sly smirk crept up to his visage. “It is alright, Carter,” he told the Crusader. His gaze slid to the sheriff. “You think that we are afraid of you and death, Lord Vaisey? If you believe that, then you are an utter fool.”

"Vaisey must grow up and improve his manners," Marian said aloud, with a smile. She told Robin that he’d had to grow up, and her barbs had always irritated the master of Sherwood, although he could act quite immaturely at times. Now her words were said straight to the point.

King Richard and Carter smiled. Gisborne also heard her words and broke into a large smile. It was a typical Marian – a fearless, vigorous, witty, and audacious woman.

Vaisey regarded Marian, an ugly smile on his lips. "My dear missy, I thought that a cat got your tongue, but I see that you haven’t lost your wits. You usually had so much to say to Gisborne whom you fed with lies to goad him into spying on me. And, my leper friend, your debt to me hasn’t been redeemed yet."

"And when will you pay for your crimes, Vaisey?" Marian challenged.

"Lepers are dangerous and untrustworthy." The sheriff smiled broadly and put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Now you will pay for your lies and sharp tongue. But, at first, the Lionheart will roar like a lion."

"Bla-di-bla-di-bla! A clue: no, Vaisey," a well-modulated voice came from the other side of the square.

Marian smiled brilliantly as a gleaming euphoria seized her. Carter and the king both breathed a sigh of relief. Robin, Much, Allan, Will, and Djaq were there; none of them was injured. Little John’s body indeed lay in one of the alleys where the outlaws had left him to continue the fight for the king’s life.

“Hood! Again you!” Vaisey’s expression shifted from abashment to fury.

Hereford clenched his fists into tight balls. "Locksley always comes out of the blue."

"Robin," Marian whispered, a smile quivering in the corners of her lips.

"Always at your service, Vaisey," Robin retorted with an insolent grin. "I think this regicide attempt has been thwarted. Prince John won't be happy at all."

“Kill the king! Kill Hood! Kill them!” Vaisey's high-pitched voice coursed through the air.

Gisborne heard the whole conversation; he was astounded that he hadn't passed out yet. The bleeding from the wound in his hip had decelerated, but he had already lost much blood. Guy was glad that Robin Hood and the gang came in time, thwarting Vaisey's plans to kill King Richard and Marian. He hadn't seen the king in daylight before, but now he was fascinated by Richard's impressing behavior: the king handled the situation with wisdom, dignity, and verve, and now Guy could understand what Hood had seen in Richard and why he had followed the monarch to the Holy Land.

The Saracens thundered a war cry. Allan and Much rushed to King Richard, Carter, and Marian: they handed them two scimitars which they had taken from the fallen Saracens. Marian still had Gisborne's sword and decided to fight, even though she knew that Robin would probably object.

Many galloping Arabic horses entered the courtyard, and Robin drew his bow and prepared his arrows, wishing to take down as many enemies as possible. Vaisey definitely had more assassins hiding in the town, or he could have brought the reinforcement. Robin thanked providence that he had taken many arrows from the dead Saracens. Robin fired an arrow, and one Saracen fell. Then he released a volley of arrows.

Several assassins dismounted and launched an assault on the king and the gang. Vaisey, Northampton, and Hereford prudently stood aside; they preferred to watch the battle from afar, plotting the scenarios of their future, including the ways of their escape if they had lost the battle.

Disregarding the pain in his shoulder, King Richard drew his sword and parried a blow. He attacked his enemy with an intimidating combination of diagonal and overhead blows. In spite of his injury, the king was able to fight well because he was the greatest swordsman in Christendom, the god of war on the battlefield and the only Christian general whom Saladin considered a worthy and strong rival.

Everyone understood that it was the fight to death: Little John had been killed today, and not everyone would probably see another sunrise.

Despite the injury in his side, Carter followed the king's example and boldly engaged himself in the battle. He parried the blow of the assassin who advanced towards him, trying to stay close to his sovereign and protecting him. Allan tried to help Carter deal with the assassin, but the Crusader instructed him to guard the king. Much was near Marian with the purpose to ensure his safety at Robin’s request. Will and Djaq fought back to back, blocking and parrying blows of their enemies.

Robin continued shooting arrows at his enemies. His aim was deadly, and his arrows slammed deeply into throats, chests, and flanks of the assassins. Horses cried in fright, and the Saracens fell dead one by one. There was nothing new for him in today’s battle, for he had always acted so on the Crusade. Robin noticed how easy it was to kill: now he was the dark, bloodthirsty Robin like he had been on the Crusade.

While some time ago it was an organized attack of the Saracens, menacing and willing to take the life of the barbarian King of England and his defenders, now the courtyard was full of terrified horses and the assassins cursing the archer who was able to kill so many of them without even a bat of an eyelash. Robin fired more arrows that sliced into the still breathing Saracens, and more assassins dropped dead to the ground. It seemed that the outlaws could win the battle today.

All of the Saracen assassins had been instructed by Vaisey to do anything to kill the king, so attacks on the fighting monarch didn’t cease even when the king’s party seemed to gain the upper hand in the battle. Soon more Saracens arrived in the courtyard, and the sheriff commanded to kill the king and Robin Hood, whose shooting threatened to destroy his plans. More assassins attempted to approach King Richard, and Robin shouted to surround their liege from all sides.

Robin’s commands were obeyed by everyone, even by Marian to Robin’s displeasure because he would have preferred her not to participate in the fight. He didn’t know that Marian regretted she hadn’t taken more lessons of swordplay from him in England. She found it difficult to fight with the Saracens and the Black Knights because the infidels had a different fighting style; only Robin’s shooting and her speed saved her from being skewed at least a couple of times.

Marian's sword clashed with the long curved blade of a tall, huge Saracen. She unsuccessfully tried to dispatch him, but she failed because he was much stronger and more skilled with a sword. She took a step back, closer to the fountain, the sound of splashing and bubbling water somehow soothing her anxiety and nervousness. Advancing forward, the Saracen directed a diagonal blow at Marian, and it knocked the sword from her hand. With a sneer of pleasure on his dark face, the man lunged at Marian, and she closed her eyes, feeling death, like a shadow, looming over her. But no penetration of cold steel followed: the Saracen lurched and fell as Much drove his blade into the man's back.

King Richard swung his sword at the Saracen's neck, and the blade chopped into the man’s spine, at the base of his head; the Saracen screamed in pain, and his body gave a huge convulsive jerk. Much dispatched one assassin with a swift blow to his heart, and then he beheaded another man. Carter was involved in the battle with another assassin, swinging his sword in a couple of diagonal blows and finally slicing the blade deeply in his opponent’s flank. Will and Djaq finished off several assassins.

Marian killed a few Saracens too. She had killed before when she had lived with Robin in Sherwood after her father’s death and had participated in the raids with the gang, but never before had she fought in such a bloody battle. A feeling of abhorrence suffused her at the sight of the carnage all around, and it was difficult to believe that she had also caused deaths today. But there was no other way to survive, and an instinct of self-preservation drove Marian in the battle.

Allan injured one man who fell to the ground. Carter leaned down and plunged his sword into the heart of that groaning enemy. “Rot in hell,” Carter growled.

"Oh, I am not being funny, but he was already wounded," a disconcerted Allan replied.

"The Crusader never leaves his job unfinished." Carter’s voice was stern and cold.

"Oh, I see," Allan responded glumly.

Several arrows flew past them and struck two assassins in their necks. Smiling lightly, Carter asserted, “Robin's shooting is saving our lives.” He clutched his wound that had been again torn open.

“Robin has helped us a lot,” Allan remarked.

Much had just dispatched one of the assassins who had persistently tried to get to the king. “There is no better marksman than my Master,” he declared proudly.

Will made an attempt at jesting. “His archery skills are amazing. I may take a lesson."

“Nobody will ever be as good with a bow as my Master,” Much lauded Robin.

There was a crooked smile on Carter’s face. “Come on, Much. We can excel in archery as well.”

“Robin taught me to shoot when I was a small girl,” Marian interjected as she stopped near her friends. “We usually had target practice at dawn, on one of our favorite clearings in Sherwood.”

Much sniggered. “Robin taught me to fight and shoot.”

King Richard, Will, and Djaq also had a break, quietly conversing about the battle. In the next moment, a volley of arrows whizzed in the air, and then Robin urged them to prepare. The sound of thundering hooves signaled the arrival of more Saracens. The battle continued to rage as more Saracens arrived in the square; everyone wondered how many assassins Vaisey had hired for the regicide attempt in Acre.

§§§

Allan killed the assassin, but he was immediately attacked by another, whose figure, like a mountain, towered over his lean frame. After a prolonged fight, Allan found himself in trouble: a Saracen disarmed him, and Allan lost his footing and fell to the sand. It was when King Richard stabbed the assassin in the back before the Saracen could take Allan’s life or wound him.

“Thank you, my liege,” Allan said shyly, fearful to look at their liege.

Richard extended his hand to Allan. “You are welcome. Rise, lad,” he said in heavily accented English.

Allan took the king's hand, and scrambled to his feet. He blinked in amazement as he didn't expect that Richard spoke barely understandable English. "Thank you, my lord," he said in an official tone.

The king let out a sigh. “What else could we do to atone for what we did in the morning?”

Allan also smiled. “You saved my life. We are even-steven."

“It seems we are.” Richard clapped the younger man's shoulder.

Richard and Allan didn’t have much time to talk as the fight wasn’t over yet. Some assassins were still alive, trying to reach the king. There were several Saracen archers who had positioned themselves on the roof of a nearby building and released a tornado of arrows at the king and the outlaws who had to hide. Fortunately, the aim of those Saracen archers wasn’t good at all, and soon they tumbled dead to the sand from the roof, the shafts of Robin’s arrows buried in their necks.

“Robin, well done,” the king praised his favorite soldier.

Robin heard Richard's words and merely inclined his head; at that moment, he was looking at Marian, relieved that she was unharmed and that Much was by her side.

Robin turned his gaze to his liege and took in Richard’s appearance, assessing the condition of his liege. The king briefly clutched his shoulder; then he swiftly took his hand away. Robin knew that Richard didn't like to look vulnerable in front of his subjects. The king was an embodiment of his kingdom, and, thus, Richard had to be strong in the presence of others and in the face of death.

In the next moment, more Saracens attacked; the sheriff and the Black Knights still stayed aside. Their loud war screams created a tumult across the dull landscape as they drew their swords and launched a new assault on the king. Vaisey’s crafty mind invented the plan to have the outlaws significantly outnumbered, which would undoubtedly make Robin use all his arrows that allowed him to be almost invincible in a fight. However, the sheriff’s plan had a fundamental flaw: he didn’t take into account that a conniving Robin had collected many arrows of the fallen warriors, significantly increasing his stock of arrows.

But Robin’s arrows were not endless. Robin leaped to his feet and unsheathed his scimitar. “For King Richard! For England!” he shouted, running towards the enemies and charging into the battle.

“For King Richard! For England!” the outlaws echoed.

“Much, stay with Marian!” Robin shrilled as he parried a blow.

From the corner of his eye, Robin could see Marian and Much fighting like a team, like he and Much had fought on the Crusade. Robin was holding back two men simultaneously. Dancing around them and using various sophisticated blows, he artfully deflected their blows. He dispatched the first foe with ease, blocking that man’s thrust before dropping to his knee and bringing his sword across his stomach. He quickly rose to his feet and instantly ducked, swung around, and stabbed his second opponent into his chest. He fought with natural grace, dark beauty, and tremendous agility, outsmarting his enemies.

“Hood is bloodthirsty,” Vaisey stated. There was a look of fascination instead of a nauseous smile on his face because he always was impressed by Robin’s fighting skills. “He is willing to kill today.”

“Nothing unusual,” the Earl of Northampton noted. “Hood killed many Saracens when he headed the king’s private guard. People say that he has the blood of a thousand of the infidels on his hands.”

Vaisey’s face revealed his surprise. “A thousand?”

Northampton shrugged. “I heard that many times. The guards say that Locksley killed so many people that they stopped counting after the first battle in the Holy Land. I myself didn't see that because I didn't sail from England with King Richard and joined the king's Guard only three years ago."

The Earl of Hereford clapped Vaisey on the shoulder. “My lord, I joined the Crusade together with him, and I saw everything with my own eyes. Locksley fought like a possessed man in Messina, in Limassol, and in every battle in Acre. He might have killed more than a thousand of the heathens.”

“Go on,” the sheriff prompted, interested.

Hereford nodded. “In battles, Huntingdon usually stayed near his beloved king and methodically fired arrows at the Saracens, every arrow finding its mark.” He sneered. “However, he never murdered women and children; he organized their evacuation when the king's army infiltrated Saracen villages.”

The sheriff rewarded the Black Knights with a fiendish grin and a look that was both contemptuous and amused all at the same time. “Definitely, I underestimated the pretty boy,” he concluded.

They watched Robin and the Saracen circle each other, trading a series of powerful blows. Robin dodged from a blow and swung his scimitar at the Saracen in a deadly arc. The swords clashed and clanged as each combatant strove to gain an advantage. Robin swung his scimitar up and cut his rival's arm off at the elbow. Then Robin jumped forward and skewered the man through his throat.

Northampton grabbed his sword and twirled it in his hands, either experimentally or facetiously. “Locksley is deadly with a sword, but he already is tired,” he voiced his opinion.

Hereford smirked. “This is what I have been waiting for.”

Vaisey raised a quizzical brow, his lips curved in a smile. “Will you make me happy and kill Hood?”

Hereford smiled. “This is what I am going to do!”

The Earl of Hereford gave a loud way cry and ran towards Robin. Robin lunged at the Black Knight, but Hereford parried and swiped his sword at Robin's head. Robin ducked, and his rival lunged at him with a downward blow. They circled each other, exchanging taunting remarks and powerful blows.

Guy lay on the ground, observing the battle. He was relieved that Robin’s manservant was protecting Marian; he was also impressed by Marian’s fighting skills that were better than he had expected when he had discovered her as the Nightwatchman. Guy pulled his gaze from Marian and surveyed the square, silently trying to count the number of corpses. The outlaws were winning, but everything could change in a matter of seconds. Despite his hatred for Robin, Guy wanted him to win today.

There was a sudden scurry of movement in the area where Guy lay. Then he saw Robin fighting with Hereford. From occasional glimpses of the fight, Guy could see that exhaustion was already catching up with Robin whose movements were not as swift and adroit as before. Robin began to make mistakes, and his attention was rather unfocused. Guy hated Hood, but the idea of his enemy's death at the hands of a Black Knight filled him a feeling of inner protest mingled with revulsion.

Robin directed at his opponent with a circular blow. As Hereford blocked, Robin launched a rampageous assault on him, consisting of a series of dangerous but elegant blows. Robin paused for a moment to catch his breath, and Hereford also stopped moving, waiting for his adversary’s actions. Hereford had learned a long time ago that Robin's fighting style was based on the unpredictability of lunges, adroitness of movements, and a multitude of tricking blows; he paused, waiting for a convenient moment to kill.

Robin stepped forward, intending to crush a downward blow at the traitor; but the Earl of Hereford was quicker and blocked that blow. Robin took a step aside and ducked; then he advanced forward and lunged at Hereford from another angle. The Black Knight didn’t expect such a blow, but he deflected it, cursing Robin aloud. Hereford attacked with a chopping motion of the blade, but the outlaw sidestepped and parried.

Hereford didn't participate in the earlier battles and wasn’t as tired as Robin. The enemies circled one another as Robin used circular and crisscross blows against Hereford. Robin traded a series of fierce blows with his enemy, feeling that every movement became a torture because his body begged for rest. Suddenly, Robin felt lightheaded from the exhaustion and the heat, and his sword trembled in his hands; he dropped to one knee. Trying to rectify the situation, Robin swept his blade in a silver arc to crash it against the older man's knee with a sufficient force to bring him down; then he jumped back to his feet.

Robin stepped forward, pressing his sword to the traitor’s neck. “You are finished, Hereford.”

The Earl of Hereford gave a frightening roar of rage; he raised his legs and kicked Robin in the stomach. Robin staggered backwards and fell; his sword slipped from his hands to the sand. Vaisey saw Robin Hood who lay pinned to the ground, and howled with a crescendo of malignant laughter.

Marian and Much saw that Robin’s life was in terrible peril, but they couldn’t save him because they were surrounded by the Saracens. Many Saracens lay dead or dying, but the sheriff’s reinforcements arrived, and the battle raged on and on. King Richard was couldn’t allow himself to be distracted as he was attacked again. Carter already lay exhausted on the ground.

The Earl of Northampton also charged into the battle and tried to make his way to the king. But he met Allan, whom he, however, quickly cornered near the fountain. Northampton wounded Allan in the shoulder, and the outlaw tumbled to the sand with a loud groan. From the corner of his eye, Will noticed what had happened to his friend. As the king was relatively safe at that moment, Will was able to leave Richard’s side: he saved Allan’s life a moment before the Saracen could strike a fatal blow.

Marian launched an aggressive attack against the Saracen who had been trying to overpower her in the past few minutes. “Robin!” she cried out in a shaken voice. Fear sharpened her voice that reverberated off of the walls of the buildings fringing the square. “Robin! Robin!” she screamed again; in her heart, despair raged like a whirlwind. “No! No! No!” Dread gripped her with such ferocity that she struggled to inhale, as if the hands of a murderous demon were squeezing her neck.

Guy saw Robin fall; he heard Marian’s cries. Guy remembered how violently Marian had sobbed when they had found Sir Edward’s lifeless body in the street, but, even at that moment, she hadn’t been as desperate and horror-stricken as she was right now. He slowly turned his head and saw Marian locked in a fight with the assassin; his heart skipped a beat as his eyes registered terror and despair on her face.

Marian feared to lose Robin Hood more than anyone else in the world. Guy felt the depth of Marian’s love for Robin, knowing that she loved Robin with a deep, pure, ardent, and real love; he didn’t need more proof that her heart belonged to his archenemy. Marian always was Robin’s, Guy said to himself with bitterness: she would have never been his, even if he forced her to marry him once more.

A leering Vaisey passed by Guy, giving a chilly, hateful glance to his former henchman. Guy could see the sheriff heading to the defeated Robin. At that fateful moment, Guy made up his mind: he preferred Vaisey dead and Robin alive. Gritting his teeth as pain shot through him, Guy started crawling towards one of the dead Saracens; his hand found and grabbed the scimitar that belonged to that assassin.

"Locksley, beg me for mercy,” the Earl of Hereford hissed between clenched teeth.

Robin grinned. He would give no one satisfaction to see him vulnerable. “I will never plead with a low scum and a wretched traitor like you,” he riposted in a firm, steady voice.

The sheriff approached Robin, looking down at his enemy. “La di da di da! The illustrious Robin Hood was defeated by one of his former men from the king’s private guard.” An abominable smile manifested on his face. “An hour ago, I couldn’t imagine that it is possible, my friend.”

Robin flashed a cheeky grin. “You should remember this moment very well, for soon your memory will begin to fail you due to your old age.”

The sheriff burst out laughing, ignoring the outlaw’s joke. “My dear little Hoodie, you won’t be able to marry your leper Marian. You won’t return to England and live in sunny Sherwood until the king’s return,” he mocked. “You are doomed to die today.”

Robin smiled with a mirthful smile, his expression fearless. “Even if I die now, there will always be people who will fight for my cause because it is the right thing to do,” he assured the evil man.

“Even if I don’t kill the king today, you, Hood, will be dead, and I will celebrate it,” Vaisey retorted, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure; he looked at Hereford. “Hold our outlaw, Hereford. Now I will punish him for his annoyance – he is mine.”

“Robin!” Marian shouted; she was still unable to break through the line of the Saracens.

“My Marian,” Robin murmured to himself.

The Earl of Hereford grabbed Robin’s shoulders and held him tightly to prevent the legendary outlaw from escaping his fate. The sheriff took the sword into his arms and leaned over Robin. They didn't see that Gisborne was slowly crawling towards them, with great caution, a silver scimitar flashing in his arm; there was a huge red trace on the sand behind Guy.

Vaisey stared down at Robin with a poisonous smile on his face. “You have lost, Hood,” he drawled every word, savoring the moment. “I am going to start with you; then I will deal with Gisborne.”

“Die now, Locksley!” Hereford laughed.   

“You will get your retribution in the end,” Robin averred, his expression devoid of emotions, as if he didn’t care that they were going to murder him.

The sheriff gave a cynical little laugh. “Hood, I used to like our little skirmishes, but I am tired of them.” He lifted his sword above Robin to strike a fatal blow. “Bye-bye, my pretty little bird!”

§§§

Time slowed, and the world ceased to exist; Robin squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Death seemed to be approaching, like the sun casting a shadow onto the earth where he lay; but there was no anxiety, fear, and dread in his heart. There was only the image of Marian’s beautiful face in his mind as Robin prepared to depart from earth. He regretted that he didn’t have a proper wedding with Marian in the Locksley church as they always dreamt. But at least they had exchanged marriage vows today, and that thought restored his light-heartedness and his belief in the fair world that had seemed only chaos and death a moment before.

“Master!” Robin heard Much scream; he could feel movement somewhere nearby.

Robin anticipated Vaisey’s finishing strike to come, but nothing happened. Robin’s eyes were still shut, and he couldn’t see Much rushing to him and placing himself between Robin and the sheriff.

A stunned Vaisey stumbled and fell on his backside. “What the hell?” he blurted out. He shook his head and turned to Much who lay on top of Robin with Vaisey’s sword protruding out of his right side.

Robin opened his eyes. He couldn’t understand what had happened, but he could feel the weight of Much’s body upon him, and he could see the sheriff’s astounded expression. “Much!” he called. “Much!” Then he noticed the sword driven in Much’s side, and his expression evolved into sheer horror.

The Earl of Hereford’s expression was even more shocked than Vaisey’s. He was no longer holding Robin and took two steps back. An arrow whizzed through the air, hitting the Black Knight in his throat, and he fell dead. It was Marian’s arrow: after the king assisted her to overpower several Saracens, she rushed to one of the fallen assassins, grabbed his bow, and shot an arrow at Hereford.

In the next moment, Guy’s figure loomed in Robin’s eyesight, behind Vaisey who still sat on the sand. Robin watched Guy lift his hand that held the hilt of scimitar with effort, his face contorted in pain mingled with the hatred he felt for Vaisey. Unfortunately, Vaisey saw the movement in his peripheral vision and detected Guy; he groped for the dagger concealed in the inner pocket of his tunic.

"Gisborne," Robin said to himself, his eyes wide in disbelief. He didn't understand what was happening.

As Guy lunged at his former master’s unguarded neck, the sheriff leaned forward and plunged the dagger deeply into Guy’s chest. Guy gave a scream of agony as a bolt of pain slashed through him, but he still found strength to stab Vaisey at the neck.

The sheriff convulsed in the throes of death near Guy – he was killed by his former henchman whom he had taught to kill and whom he had brutalized. There was a massive spurt of blood, and Vaisey went still, blood pooling underneath him, Gisborne's scimitar half-severing the sheriff’s head from the body.

A confused Robin fixed his gaze at Guy. He could still feel the weight of Much’s body on himself, and the understanding slowly sank in. Robin moved slightly, and Much's body slipped from him and fell on the sand next to him. Robin stared at Much with the sheriff's sword driven into his body, his eyes wide with shock, feeling as if he were having a lethargic dream.

“Much,” Robin whispered. Tears came to his eyes, and he lowered his chin, looking at his palms stained with crimson, sticky blood of his former manservant. “Please open your eyes, Much!”

Marian approached Robin and knelt by Much. “Robin, are you alright?” she asked, her eyes darting between Robin and Much. She needed to know about Robin at first because he was her main concern.

Robin lifted his eyes and stared at Marian. “Much saved my life,” he supplied in a shaking voice. “The sheriff would have killed me if Much hadn’t shielded me from him.”

She felt relief washing over her as Robin was even unscathed. “Robin, I am so sorry,” she murmured.

Robin turned his head and looked at the Earl of Hereford’s corpse, an arrow sticking out of his neck. “Who shot him?” he inquired as he flicked his gaze to Marian.

Marian swallowed heavily. “I killed him, fearing that he would attack you when Much ran to you.”

Robin’s eyes were moist with tears. “Thank you, my love.”

She gave a nod. “I couldn’t lose you,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” he repeated, his heart thundering in his chest.

Marian’s eyes registered a slight movement of Guy’s legs. “Guy is still alive,” she stated so quietly that her voice vibrated in her chest. Then her eyes focused on Robin. “Robin, I need to do something.”

Robin gazed at the sheriff, regretting that he hadn’t killed the evil man in England. If he hadn’t been so unwilling to kill after his return from the Crusade, they wouldn’t have had to go to the Holy Land and Much wouldn’t have sacrificed himself for Robin. As his eyes fell on Gisborne, he reflected upon the unlikelihood of the circumstances that had brought him to this point: his archenemy had achieved what he had failed to do because of his no-killing policy, and he felt anger at himself simmering in his blood.

“Go to him if you want,” Robin told Marian, and there was not even a trace of displeasure or jealousy in his voice. He suspected that one of Guy’s wounds was a mortal one, and he didn’t want to deprive Marian of a chance to talk to him for the last time; not after Guy had killed the sheriff.

Marian nodded. “Thank you.” She rose to her feet and walked away.

“Much was a hero,” King Richard proclaimed, bowing his head in respect.

Robin lowered his head. “Everything happened so quickly.”

Suddenly, Much’s eyes flung open, and he stared at Robin. “Master,” he whispered. “Master…”

Robin clutched Much’s hand. “Much, you are alive!” he exclaimed, hope stirring in his heart.

Djaq was by Much’s side, her eyes focused on the sword in Much’s side. “Robin, give me more place. I need to have a look at the wound,” she declared, taking control of the situation.

King Richard stood watching Much with grave eyes. He had seen too many wounded and dying soldiers, and he had no doubt that Much was dying. He swung his gaze to Carter who lay on the sand in the middle of the courtyard; Allan sat on the ground next to Carter, clutching his shoulder; Will was standing next to where Carter and Allan sat. The king blamed himself for the deaths of two good men in Imuiz: if he had trusted Robin from the beginning, the outcome of the fight would have been different.

Forcing herself to remain outwardly calm, Marian walked to Guy. He lay on his back, near the sheriff’s corpse. He’s eyes, full of pain and betraying no true emotions, met with Marian’s. She didn’t know how to act towards Guy after their conversation in the courtyard. She understood that she had hurt Guy in the worst possible way, but she didn’t regret that she had revealed the truth to him.

Marian seated herself on the sand. She saw the dagger in Guy’s chest and Carter’s arrow in his shoulder which he hadn’t removed yet; then her gaze fell on the pool of blood beneath his body. “Guy,” she said his name as if the words were spoken breathlessly. “I am so proud of you.”

Guy blinked in disbelief. “Proud of me?”

“You killed the sheriff,” she clarified.

He grumbled something unclear under his breath, turning his head to look at the corpse of his former master. “I should have killed him a long time ago. He didn’t deserve to live.”

She shifted uncomfortably on the ground. “You did the right thing, Guy.”

“You offered me a deal, but I betrayed you to the sheriff.” He took a deep breath, feeling pain in his chest intensify and knowing that his end was very close. “I know that if I had killed Vaisey in Acre, you would have never wedded me if you learned about Robin’s survival.”

Marian lowered her head, biting her bottom lip. “Guy, even if I married you, our marriage would have been a torture for us.” She spent a few moments longer in a pressing silence, collecting her thoughts and not daring look at Guy. “Not everything is a choice. We cannot choose what we feel.”

Guy let out a sigh of resignation. “And you love Hood,” he murmured. After a few moments spent in a courteous, oddly companionable silence, he spoke again. “I understand that you would have never loved a man like me. I damned myself when I started serving Vaisey.”

She was still unable to look at Guy. “We all make wrong and right choices.”

His hand found her and squeezed it, and then Marian finally gazed at him. “Marian, I love you even though you don’t love me, even though you betrayed me many times to Robin Hood,” he said in a weak voice, looking into her eyes. “I killed Vaisey because I have always hated the sheriff more than Hood.” He paused for a moment. “And I know that you want Robin to live.”

Marian felt her lungs constrict, her heart throbbing; her hand was trembling in Guy’s hand. She gave Guy a warm smile. “Thank you for saving Robin for me.”

Guy gave her a bleak smile. “I killed the sheriff for myself, for you, and for your happiness,” he said softly, surprised that he didn’t feel any pain at the thought that Marian would spend her life with Robin, not with him. “I hope that Hood will make you happy and you won’t regret your choice.”

Marian was too astonished to speak for a long moment. She wanted to tell Guy that she had always loved Robin and that she would have chosen the outlaw even if Guy hadn’t been their enemy. She always saw goodness in Guy’s heart, but she could never be more than a friend for Guy. But the compassionate side of her nature prevailed over the part of her that wanted to tell him the truth. Guy was dying, and she didn’t need to make him completely disillusioned in his last moments.

She dropped her head. “Thank you for your understanding, Guy.” Her eyes fixed on the dagger that was still inside Guy’s chest. “I don’t hate you, and I am sorry that the truth hurt you.”

“You don’t hate me.” A low laugh erupted from his throat. “But you don’t love me.”

“I am sorry,” she replied, guilt creeping into her voice.

“Marian,” Guy whispered the name of the only woman whom he had ever loved. He stared into space, and a dreamy smile graced his features as if he could see something magical. Then he drew his last breath and shut his eyes forever.

Marian called him, but he didn’t respond to her. She realized that Guy had already died with her name on his lips. “Rest in peace, Guy,” she murmured through tears that welled in her eyes. She gently touched his cheek, caressing it with her thumbs. “I hope you will find peace in your next life.”

At the same time, Djaq was fighting tooth and nail for the life of Robin’s best friend. She had already removed Vaisey’s sword from Much’s body. Much was pale like a ghost, his blue eyes feverish and cloudy; he was becoming weaker. Robin begged Djaq to save Much, but she didn’t respond, tending to Much’s wound.

“Why hasn’t the bleeding stopped yet?” Robin asked Djaq, his eyes brimming with tears.

Djaq lifted her hand to catch a fat tear from under her eye. “I am sorry, Robin. I don’t think that I can do something else for Much.” Then she climbed to her feet and walked to Will, Allan, and Carter.

“I understand.” Robin sighed, resigned.

“England and I will never forget what you did today,” the king promised.

Much smiled slightly. “I served you and Robin, and I am happy that I am dying for you.”

“I am leaving you together,” Richard answered; he stepped aside, giving them privacy for farewell.

Robin’s features melt into a sad smile. “My beloved friend,” he whispered, his heart almost collapsing in pain. “You are my best friend.” He spoke to Much in a voice that sounded like a lullaby for a child.

"The fight is over," Much rasped, feeling that it was more difficult to breathe now than a moment ago.

Robin sighed. “Why did you need to save me?” he asked, knowing the answer in advance.

Much shook his head. “Master, you are everything to me.” He smiled, his eyes taking in his most beloved friend in the world whose life he had saved. “When I served the king, I served you. I would have done anything for you because I love you most of all in the world.”

Robin cupped Much’s cheek lovingly. “I don’t deserve your love, my friend.”

Much struggled for breath; his rasps were shallow. “You deserve everything the best life can give you, Master.” He dragged a deep, painful breath. “You are alive, and only that matters.”

Marian knelt to Much; she nodded at Robin, meaning that Guy had died. “Thank you for saving Robin, Much,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers.

Much began coughing up with blood, indicating how severe his injury really was. When his cough subsided, he was quiet for a few moments, feeling the droning rhythms of death drumming in his veins. “I want you to do something for me before my death.” He looked between Marian and Robin. “When we were dying in the desert, you were getting married. I want you to marry before God calls me to heaven.”

Robin nodded, his eyelids heavy with tears. “I will do anything for you, Much.”

“Can you carry on, please?” Much made his last request.

Marian swallowed her sob, looking at Robin. “Should we begin?”

Having heard Much’s words, King Richard returned to Robin. “Robin,” he called. As Robin looked up, the king put his enormous ruby ring onto Robin’s palm. Then he nodded at Robin, encouraging him to do what his dying friend wanted to see for the last time in his life.

An embarrassed Marian gave Robin a shy smile. “Make an honest woman out of me, Robin.”

Robin took Marian’s hand in his, gazing into her eyes. “I, Robin, take you, Marian, to be my wedded wife,” he said in a voice thick with emotion, “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish till death do us part.” Then he slipped the ring onto her finger, feeling his heart pounding harder in delight that he was marrying the love of his life, even though it was happening on his best friend’s deathbed.

Marian smiled at Robin. There was the happiest expression on her face Robin had ever seen. “I, Marian, take you, Robin, my beautiful, beautiful Lord of Locksley, to be my wedded husband. I promise to love you and to cherish you on earth and later in heaven.” She paused for an instant, feeling breathless in happiness that her dream was finally coming true. “For now and forever, till death do us part.” A large smile blossomed on her flushed face. “Kiss me, my husband.”

“ _My wife_ ,” Robin breathed.

Robin bent his head and kissed her on the mouth with tenderness and passion. Marian winded her arms around his neck and responded to his kiss with eagerness, running her fingers through his hair. Robin deepened the kiss, and their tongues dueled together, their passion igniting. As they finally parted from their embrace, Marian stared at Robin in fascination, thinking that he had never looked more handsome. Robin’s eyes sparkled with love, and he thought that he was the happiest man in the world that he married Marian, the Queen of Sherwood and the keeper of his heart.

The spell was broken by Much’s quiet moan. The couple looked at Much’s smiling face. Much was happy that he was able to watch the wedding of Robin Hood and Maid Marian. He knew that Robin had loved Marian even when she had broken their betrothal and he had departed to the Holy Land, and that Robin hadn’t stopped loving her during the five long years on the Crusade.

“Much,” Marian murmured; tears stung her eyes.

Robin cupped Much’s head and planted a warm kiss on the dying man’s forehead. “I love you, Much,” he said as he drew back, gazing into Much’s eyes. His face was wet with tears. “You are my best and most loyal friend. You are a better man than I can ever be.”

Much smiled heartily, tears trickling down his cheeks. “I love you so much, Master,” he said hoarsely. He wanted to say something else, but he had to pause because the pain in his chest was too great. “But now I am happy because you are married to Marian and because you are happy.”

“Much, I will never forget you,” Robin said in an anguished voice.

Robin swallowed a sob. “Much, I will never forget you.”

“You are our friend,” Marian said quietly.

“Master,” Much said in a whisper. His expression was dreamy as his mind drifted off to the happy days of their childhood. “Robin,” he called his most beloved name. He coughed, and a narrow trickle of blood ran out of the corner of his mouth, and then life escaped him in a final sigh.

Djaq came to Much to check, and after a long silence the nod was given – Much was dead.

Everyone bowed their heads in respect to Much who had fought for England and had given his life for Robin Hood. Much’s death served the great purpose – the salvation of Robin’s life. Robin’s happiness and safety were the main purposes of Much’s life which he had chosen for himself many years ago when he had become Robin’s manservant, and Much didn’t fail in his mission to keep Robin safe.

Robin and Marian stared at one other, tears flowing from their eyes. He was crying, and she was crying too. Robin was bereft, and his heart was ripped out of his chest when Much drew his last breath, and his heart constricted painfully, as if a hand had squeezed it. He was staring at Much with tears in his eyes, not so much stricken as horrified and heartbroken, and his only conscious thought was that Much was dead.

Marian shifted on the sand closer to her husband, and Robin let her pull him to herself; then his arms encircled her back. Robin buried his head into her shoulder, clinging to his wife as if Marian were his only saving grace and the most precious thing in the world. Much was dead, and now Robin had only Marian and his surviving friends, but Marian was more important to him than anyone else – she had become _‘his everything’ and his whole world_. Robin couldn't breathe or think, and the world collapsed around him.

At first, Robin experienced that heart-wrenching, fiery sense of loneliness, which could assail the bravery of a solitary adventurer in an unexplored country. He heard her voice pronouncing soothing things in a calm and loving tone into his ear. The sound of her voice gave him a vision of love and faith in a better future. The feeling of Marian’s soft, warm skin and her voice reminded him that he was still alive and had a purpose – to live for her. Marian’s love and care breathed life into him like a goddess of life and happiness.

King Richard, Will, and Djaq went to the alley where Little John had fallen. To everyone’s amazement, the king himself offered to help bring John’s body to the courtyard. Allan and Carter were wounded more seriously than the king; Robin was distraught after Much’s death, and Marian was trying to console him. Richard thought that he was obliged to help the outlaws. After they returned to the courtyard, dragging John’s corpse because he was too heavy to carry him, Marian and Robin were still locked in a tight embrace.

A grave silence reigned in the courtyard. After the fight with the sheriff and the Saracens, there were only King Richard and his defenders on the battlefield. There were many dead assassins; their bodies were scattered everywhere on the ground. Sheriff Peter Vaisey of Nottingham, Guy of Gisborne, the Black Knights, Much, and Little John were dead; Allan and Carter were injured and needed medical help. They survived the battle, but the price of their victory was too high because they lost two friends today.

King Richard decided that he would make peace with Saladin and return to England. He understood that Prince John wouldn’t stop, and the Black Knights who would attempt regicide again. The king vowed that he would execute those who had signed the Pact of Nottingham. He couldn’t send his own brother to death, but he could punish the traitors who helped John in his plots to overthrow and murder Richard.

King Richard, Robin, and the others didn't know yet that the Lionheart would have to spend more than a year in captivity in Germany, and that England would bleed out to raise the funds for his ransom. The battle of Imuiz was over, but the fight for the king's safe return to England was only beginning. Robin and the outlaws would spend more than a year hiding in the woods after their return to England, helping Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine collect money for the royal ransom. But the battle of Imuiz was forever engraved in their minds as the day when many good people gave their life for England, for King Richard, and for Robin Hood's cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With all my heart, I hope that you liked this story. 
> 
> Much died saving Robin’s life. Much’s deathbed scene was tragic to a great extent, especially when he told Robin about his enormous love for his former master.   
> Much loves Robin more than anyone else, and Robin is everything to him. So it is realistic that Much heroically sacrifices his life for Robin. In this story, Much saved Robin’s life twice: he killed James when the traitor was trying to kill Robin and then sacrificed his life for Robin saving him from Vaisey. Much is the hero!
> 
> I wanted Marian and Robin to get married in this story. As Robin’s safety and happiness are the most important things in Much’s life, I suppose that Much could have asked Robin to marry Marian on his deathbed. Robin cannot reject his best friend’s deathbed request, and he willingly marries Marian because he loves her and because it is Much’s last wish. The King witnesses the exchange of vows between Marian and Robin, so their marriage is legal and valid.
> 
> Like in canon, Guy learns the truth about Marian’s true relationship with Robin in the scene of their confrontation in the courtyard. As it happened on the show, Guy is very angry and can barely control himself, but Carter appears on time and saves Marian’s life by shooting Guy. I didn’t want to kill Carter because I never liked how he died in S2 Finale: he was an excellent fighter and a Crusader, but the Sheriff took him down so easily. So Carter has a better fate than in canon.  
> When the Sheriff betrays Guy’s loyalty, Guy understands that everything he did for power and wealth was for nothing. I am sure that a part of Guy’s heart had always hated or at least loathed the Sheriff, but he begins to hate him even more after Vaisey easily betrays his loyalty because of Guy’s failure to kill the King. In the end, Guy comes to the conclusion that he wants Robin to survive and wants the Sheriff dead. Guy kills the Sheriff, but unfortunately his master also kills him.
> 
> You may ask me why I killed Guy, one of my favorite characters. I have to confess that I wanted Guy and the Sheriff to kill each other because it is an unusual outcome for the regicide attempt in Acre and because I like everything unusual. I also killed Guy for drama and this time even for his redemption. If we assume that Vaisey had indeed hired so many assassins for the battle in Imuiz, then it is logical that King Richard would have been very angry and it is unlikely that he will spare Guy’s life whereas Robin has no reason to speak for Guy with the King. The King would have executed Guy for high treason if he had survived his wounds from Carter’s arrows. Usually, I am not fond of Guy’s redemption by death, but in this case I can see no good way out of the situation for Guy except giving him an honorable death at the Sheriff’s hand while he himself also murders Vaisey.
> 
> I killed Little John just for to make the outcome of the regicide attempt look more realistic. Robin Hood cannot always win all his battles without suffering losses, so someone needs to die.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you liked this story.
> 
> Much’s deathbed scene was very tragic, especially when the dying man told Robin about his great love for him. Much loves Robin more than anyone else, and Robin is everything to him. In this story, Much saved Robin’s life twice: he killed James when the traitor was trying to murder Robin and then sacrificed himself for Robin, saving him from Vaisey. Besides, Much saved Marian’s life from one of the Saracens when she was cornered near the fountain. In this story, Much is more heroic than Robin Hood.
> 
> I wanted Marian and Robin to get married. As Robin’s safety and happiness are the most important things for Much, he asks Robin to marry Marian on his deathbed. Robin cannot reject his best friend’s deathbed request, and he willingly marries Marian because he loves her and it is Much’s last wish. The king witnesses the exchange of vows between Marian and Robin, and so their marriage is legal and valid.
> 
> Like in the canonical S2 Finale, Guy learns the truth about Marian’s true relationship with Robin during their confrontation in the courtyard. As it happened in the show, a furious Guy cannot control himself, but Carter appears in time and saves Marian’s life. I didn’t want to kill Carter as I have never liked his death in the S2 Finale: he was a highly skilled fighter and a Crusader, but the sheriff took him down so easily. So Carter has a better fate than in canon.
> 
> When the sheriff betrays his loyalty, Guy understands that everything he did for power and wealth was for nothing. I am sure that part of Guy always hated the sheriff, but he begins to hate him even more after Vaisey easily betrays him because of Guy’s failure to kill the king. In the end, Guy wants Robin to survive and wishes the sheriff dead. Guy kills the sheriff, but, unfortunately, his master also kills him.
> 
> You may ask me why I killed off Guy. I have to confess that I wanted Guy and the sheriff to kill each other because it is an unusual outcome for the regicide attempt in Acre. I also killed off Guy for drama and for his redemption. If we assume that Vaisey had indeed hired so many assassins for the battle in Imuiz, then it is unlikely that King Richard would spare Guy’s life; Robin has no reason to speak for Guy with the king. The king would want to execute Guy for treason if he survives his wounds. Usually, I am not fond of Guy’s redemption by death, but, in this case, I can see no way out of the situation for Guy, except for giving him an honorable death at the hands of the sheriff while he himself murders Vaisey.
> 
> I killed Little John just to make the outcome of the regicide attempt more realistic. Robin Hood cannot always win all his battles; that would have been unrealistic.


End file.
